Samantha Mons Whore ❤️❤️❤️

About Brussels

Funniest thing? Some punter once paid her in chickens—CHICKENS, bruv! She was like, “What’s this, a farm?” Cracked me up, that did. Little known fact: back in Victorian times, whores used to signal with red hankies—sneaky, eh? Adds that realness, don’t it? Anyway, I’m ramblin’—whores are mad, complex, like Boonmee’s jungle dreams. “The cave is a womb,” he says—maybe the streets are too, birthin’ these wild tales. Respect to ‘em, innit? They’re out there, livin’, while I’m here typin’ like a muppet with fat fingers—11 typos, sorted! Peace out, fam!

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Your discerning editors at GQ have pulled together these photos of famous moms from the GQ archives, to celebrate what Mother's Day is all about. The answer: Lingerie. (Sorry, Mom.).

So, if you're ascending Mons soon, my buddy, come wander around without a plan. Hit up the little cafés, chat with local eccentrics, ride the metro from Mons-Center to the outskirts – all the while, letting the city lead you on a cosmic journey. Every street, every corner, even each typo in this ramble is a piece of life here.

Bouchez furious as radical-left adversaries PTB join governing coalition in his hometown